The Lie Religion Told You About God — And About You

There’s a certain kind of religious message that spreads because it sounds humble. Reverent. Deeply spiritual.

You’ve probably seen it before.

Soft background. Elegant font. Devotional tone.

Recently I saw one that said something like:

“If we truly understood how offensive even the smallest sin is to a holy God, we would be utterly undone. Yet because of Jesus, God now sees us as holy and blameless.”

And for many Christians, that sounds beautiful. Like awe. Like reverence.

But underneath the poetic language is a message that has quietly wounded millions of people:

You are fundamentally repulsive to God. But thankfully, Jesus stands in the way.

And friends, that is not good news.

That is shame wrapped in worship language.

For so many people — especially LGBTQ people, parents of LGBTQ kids, and those deconstructing rigid forms of faith — this theology shapes everything.

It shapes how you see yourself.
How you see your body.
How you experience desire.
How you relate to your child.
How you approach God.

Many of us were taught that spirituality begins with self-loathing. That the holiest thing you can do is agree with God about how unworthy you are.

But let’s be honest about what that does to a human soul.

You cannot build secure attachment to a God who secretly cannot stand you.

You cannot experience peace while believing your existence is fundamentally offensive.

And you cannot grow into wholeness while treating your humanity like contamination.

That isn’t humility.
That’s spiritual shame.

The Problem Starts With the Wrong Image of God

This entire framework depends on imagining God as a cosmic perfectionist.

A divine authority figure with impossibly high standards and deep disappointment toward human beings.

A God constantly recoiling from imperfection.

But what if that image itself is the problem?

What if God is not an angry deity keeping score?

What if God is not disgusted by your humanity?

What if the sacred is not fundamentally opposed to your existence?

Because when you read the life of Jesus carefully, the pattern becomes impossible to ignore.

Jesus consistently moved toward the people religion pushed away.

The shamed.
The excluded.
The “unclean.”
The outsiders.
The morally judged.

And he did not approach them with revulsion.

He approached them with restoration.

With dignity.
With belonging.
With love.

He did not say:
“You are disgusting, but God will tolerate you because of me.”

He communicated something radically different:

You belong before you perform.

You are loved before you change.

You are worthy of dignity before you become religious enough to earn it.

We Built Entire Theologies Around Shame

Over time, Christianity developed highly legal and transactional ways of understanding salvation.

Systems where humanity became primarily defined by depravity.
Where God required payment.
Where Jesus functioned as the acceptable substitute shielding humanity from divine wrath.

And while many sincere people find meaning in those frameworks, we also need to acknowledge the psychological impact they can create.

Because when the core message becomes:
“God cannot bear to look at you unless you are covered,”

people internalize that.

Children internalize that.
Queer teenagers internalize that.
Parents internalize that.

And eventually people begin relating to themselves with the same suspicion they imagine God feels toward them.

That matters.

The Original Story Begins With Goodness

Before shame enters the Genesis story…
Before punishment…
Before exile…

What is the first thing said about humanity?

That humanity is good.

Not “good once corrected.”
Not “good once saved.”
Not “good once spiritually cleaned up.”

Good.

That is the foundation.

And yet so much religion trains people to distrust their own humanity from the very beginning.

We learn to fear ourselves.
Fear desire.
Fear questions.
Fear authenticity.
Fear our bodies.
Fear our children’s identities.

Especially when those identities fall outside religious expectations.

And once fear becomes the center of spirituality, love begins to disappear.

Because fear-based religion always creates performance anxiety.

Am I holy enough?
Faithful enough?
Pure enough?
Certain enough?
Straight enough?
Obedient enough?

People spend years spiritually hustling for approval that we already had. You ARE enough. You always were and you always will be. 

For FREE resources, come say hello. Click here.